


Survive

by InsaneSociopath



Series: The Resurrection Chronicles [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Gen, Jim's terrible childhood, Jim/Bones - Freeform, Tarsus IV, immortal au, preslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 17:10:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7900927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneSociopath/pseuds/InsaneSociopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim pretty much instantly regrets calling the burly Cadet “Cupcake”, because the unanticipated punch to the nose results in him going flying backwards straight into the bar. Where he summarily cracks the back of his skull so hard on the roughened edge, his skull fractures and he gets to experience <em>precisely and intimately</em> what death by blunt force trauma feels like. Again.</p>
<p>And because the universe apparently hates him extra special today, he also gets to wake up to find a horrified Starfleet Captain peering down at him, bits of Jim’s brain and blood smeared all over his hands. Honestly, being immortal is enough of a pain in the arse <em>without</em> the added drama of being caught pulling his resurrection act red handed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Survive

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I set out to write a One Shot, and for once in my life, managed to _only_ write a One Shot!~~ Yeaaaahhhh, It's a series now... (part three is my personal favourite)
> 
> There really wasn't supposed to be so much Chris Pike in this, but apparently I can't help myself. Oh well, there's no such thing as too much Pike in my opinion ;)

James T. Kirk dies for the first time when he’s precisely 13 minutes and 17 seconds old. Even the marvels of modern medicine can’t fix everything and tiny new born Jim Kirk is nearly three months premature, is currently being bombarded with residual photon torpedo energy and god knows what else, and his doctor has only the severely limited equipment and medications found on board an emergency-launched shuttle with which to treat him.

In other words, his survival chances are abysmally low. Precisely no-one is surprised when he fails to overcome the odds, no matter how heart-breaking the whole situation is.

* * *

James T. Kirk fails to stay dead for the first time when he’s precisely 22 minutes and 32 seconds old. Thanks to the frankly horrifying situation that he was born into not half an hour ago, his miraculous recovery is noted down as little more than unbelievable good luck and no-one thinks anything of it ever again. Well, not for another 22 years anyway.

* * *

* * *

The second time he dies, Jim is eleven years old. 

“Please Sam! You have to take me with you!” Jim whines, trying desperately to make it sound piteous rather than tainting it with his actual feelings of sheer terror.

“For the last damn time, I can’t Jimmy!” Sam growls angrily back at him, shoving a threadbare t-shirt into his battered rucksack. “You’re too young! You’d stand out so we’d get caught and dragged back here, so there’s no damned point!”

“We won’t, I promise! I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you tell me too! Please, just don’t leave me here with him alone!”

“NO JIMMY! I’M GOING!”

Sam slams the back porch door on his way out, leaving Jim to stare at it rattling loosely in the broken frame.

* * *

Frank, predictably, is beyond furious when he eventually stumbles home later that night blind drunk to find his favourite punching bag has up and vanished.

Equally as predictably, Frank chooses to take his fury out on his second favourite punching bag. Jim bites back all the vicious retorts and obscenities he wants to scream at the bastard as he’s dragged by his arm into the kitchen, knowing full well that making Frank even more angry will only result in more bruises and broken bones.

He kind of regrets holding his tongue though, when searing white agony erupts across the front of his neck; it’s pretty hard to curse someone to an eternity in fiery damnation like you want to, when you’re too busy clutching desperately at the broken bottle stabbed into your throat and panicking over your lack of ability to breathe while all too aware that you’re rapidly bleeding to death.

* * *

Jim wakes with a harsh painful gasp to find himself lying on the kitchen floor amongst shards of glass. It’s still pitch black outside and the blood he’s covered in is sickeningly warm still.

Frank is nowhere to be seen, but the bloody trail of footprints leading into the front room suggests that he’s probably passed out on the ratty couch like usual; apparently he doesn’t care in the slightest that he just murdered his step-son.

_Oh holy fucking god!_ Jim suddenly thinks in sheer terror, clawing at his throat, his chest tightening and his breathing becoming frantic and erratic, _I just got fucking murdered! I just died!_

* * *

He stands under the shower head fully dressed, cold, shivering, and alone.

His blood flows down his chest and arms, staining his boots and twisting sinuously across the mouldy, grimy base of the tub and down the drain.

Jim decides to skip school tomorrow.

* * *

The wind rushes gloriously through his hair, classical music reverberates with its deep bass and drums in his ears, and adrenaline pumps through his veins like a shot of pure caffeine to the heart. 

Two days ago, Jim’s step father had murdered him.

“YEAAAHHHHHH!!!” Jimmy shouts elated, as he puts his foot down harder on the accelerator and hurtles down the track towards the quarry.

* * *

* * *

He doesn’t 100% believe that he had _actually_ died at his step-father’s hands until Tarsus.

Because that doesn’t happen to people does it? Surviving death is against every known law of nature. Right?

* * *

Jim dies in the town square massacre alongside 4000 other colonists. He thinks he took a phaser blast square to the chest, but he’s not entirely sure; he’s honestly not sure of anything anymore.

* * *

Jim stops denying to himself that he’s a freak of nature after he starves to death for the second time.

* * *

He doesn’t, and never will discuss with anyone, what happens in Kodos’ dungeons when he finally gets caught.

(Not beyond an offhand remark years later that exsanguination is absolutely the worst way to die, if it’s done with a small cut between your fingers and some truly _inspired_ usage of an old metal guitar string and a blow torch.

Bones scowls at him so furiously for the off-colour joke that Jim promises to never poke fun at those years of his life ever again.)

* * *

Starfleet finally shows up two weeks after Kodos first got his hands on Jim.

“Oh my go-” The red shirted Ensign doesn’t finish his sentence, too busy forcing his way back out of the cell and into the corridor to retch violently.

“Hey,” Jim croaks painfully, “Took you guys long enough.”

A second officer, a Lieutenant in a gold shirt, takes a couple of deep breathes before stepping up to Jim with shaking hands.

“What’s- what’s your name kid?” she asks hesitantly, tears running unchecked over her cheeks. She reaches up over Jim’s head and pulls the bolt out of the manacles wrapped around his wrists.

“JT,” Jim tells her, through a gritted scream “You have to save my kids.”

And then he blacks out.

* * *

* * *

Jim is sixteen when he starts a series of experiments.

“Come on hit me!” he yells at the other guy.

“Seriously, you’re like the biggest, most wimpy, _pussy_ I have ever met!” he spits at him, blood flecking everywhere.

“You fucking wanker, you’re such a fucking coward!” he coughs wetly at him, even as the metal pipe collides with a sickening crunch against the side of his head.

* * *

_Friday, 22nd October, 2250_  
_#103_  
_Method: Alcohol Poisoning_  
_Pain level: 3_  
_Notes: You’re so drunk, you barely notice. Not as pain free as a drug overdose, but better than drowning in icy water._  
_Result? Still no fucking clue why I’m a freak._

* * *

_Tuesday, 31st January, 2252_  
_#316_  
_Method: Hydrogen-Ice bomb explosion_  
_Pain level: 8_  
_Notes: Never again._  
_Result? Why do I even bother with this part?_

* * *

* * *

“Do you at least want to know my name before you completely reject me?” Jim smirks, trying and mostly succeeding to not sway drunkenly.

“I’m fine without it.” The hot brunette cadet shoots back, no hesitation. 

“You _are_ fine without it,” he grins with a gesture, “It’s Jim, Jim Kirk.” The cadet continues to ignore him, but he can sense her amusement so he continues. “If you don’t tell me your name, I’m gonna have to make one up.”

“It’s Uhura” she admits with an eyeroll.

“Uhura, no way!” he mock gasps, “That’s the name I was gonna make up for you!”

He’d come into the bar with the intention of drinking himself into unconsciousness, so that he wouldn’t be forced to repeat his death of the previous night in his mind’s eye while trying to fall asleep (hit and runs; never particularly pleasant, usually at least a solid 5). But this Cadet, this _Uhura,_ was turning out to be far more interesting than he’d been expecting. He was pretty sure she’d be worth sobering up some for.

He hadn’t engaged in some banter quite this good for _years!_

* * *

You’d have thought that after all the years of dealing with Frank, Jim would have learnt to keep his goddamn mouth shut. But no, apparently he’s not that smart, despite the genius level IQ. 

“Hey farmboy! Maybe you can't count, but there are four of us and one of you!” the thickset Cadet snarls at him. Jim rolls his eyes and glares at the group of wonnabe-thugs.

“Well, get some more guys and then it'll be an even fight.” He tells them cockily.

Two seconds later he regrets not walking away the instant they first barged into his and Uhura’s conversation.

* * *

In twenty-two years, Jim has been caught dying and not staying dead three times. 

The first, he doesn’t remember because he was, well, less than an hour old.

The second time was Kodos. 

The third was following a traffic accident. Unlike most of his deaths in the last five and a half years, it was completely accidental. At roughly half eleven at night, Jim had been leaving the local library, his head in a book he’d downloaded to his PADD, and he’d not looked both ways before crossing the street. Thankfully, the driver of the Aircar that hit him had been in an absolute blind state of panic when Jim had gasped awake, too busy sobbing hysterically into his Comm at the emergency service operator to really understand what he was seeing when Jim hurriedly scrambled to his hands and knees and crawled away.

Jim had spent the next three weeks hiding in the most obscure places he could find, completely convinced that any minute now, a hoard of federation security workers were going to descend upon him and drag him away for lab testing.

Or worse, inflict a repeat of Kodos on him.

* * *

The fourth time he gets caught, he gasps awake to find himself sprawled next to an overturned bar stool and his head in someone’s lap. He cusses at himself emphatically and swears he’ll never call someone Cupcake ever again.

“Holy fuck!” someone with a gravelly voice exclaims in horror. Jim opens one eye and peers upwards to find some old guy with grey hair staring down at him, blood dripping from his fingers.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jim groans, noting with growing dread that the man is wearing a grey Starfleet officer’s uniform.

“Jesus kid, you were just dead!”

“Yeah, that happens sometimes,” Jim groans again, rolling over and trying desperately to stagger to his feet; he has to get out of here right now before the whole might of Starfleet comes clattering down on his head.

“Son the back of your head was caved in! Normal people don’t just get and walk away from that!” old officer guy chokes out.

“Well I do!” Jim breathes, nausea bubbling up in his throat. He grabs the leg of an overturned table and starts dragging himself towards the bar’s back exit.

“Jesus wept! What the hell Kirk!?”

And well shit, old officer guy knows his name. He’s definitely fucked now; unless he gets the hell off Earth immediately, the Federation will find him no matter where he hides. 

“Wait! Kirk! Kirk! Dammit kid! James stop!” Jim ignores him and continues hauling himself towards the door.

“James Tiberius Kirk, hold your damn horses! I’m not going to turn you in, you utter fool!”

Jim’s really not stupid enough to believe him and finally manages to stagger into the back hallway.

* * *

The problem with dying is that you don’t bounce back immediately once you wake up; for at least a good thirty minutes after clawing your way back into the land of the living, you feel weaker than a new born kitten. If you die in a particularly brutal manner, then remnants of the physical effects and nearly all the pain lingers for several hours.

Jim isn’t really all that surprised then, when he only manages to get a dozen steps out of the back door, before old officer guy catches up, spins him and grabs him.

“For fuck sake kid! Would you listen to me!?”

Jim does his best to shake old guy’s hands off his arms and shove him away, but he knows he’s fighting a losing battle.

“James! James! Dammit Jim, stop! You’re not alone! There are other people like you! You just took me by surprise!”

Jim goes as still as a rock and stares at old guy wide eyed.

* * *

“For my dissertation, I was assigned the USS Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad; he didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

Jim snorts and shifts the ice-pack against the back of his head, finally realising who the guy is. Jim’s read the dissertation; the author is one Cadet -now Captain- Christopher Pike, the ‘Fleet’s current poster boy. He’d probably have recognised him earlier if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with panicking.

“Sure learnt his lesson.” He mutters sarcastically at the Captain.

“Well, it depends on how you define winning. You're here, aren't you?” Pike retorts with a raised eyebrow.

Jim snorts again. 

“No thanks to him. I’ve seen my own medical record, I know it back to front. I can put two and two together and work out that I died in that damn shuttle when I was born. Fucking radiation from an exploding warp drive combined with photon torpedo emissions. Everyone else got treatment as soon as they were picked up for the ride back to Earth and has been fine ever since. Me? My dad’s supposedly heroic suicide run killed me, and probably inflicted this goddamn _curse_ upon me.”

“And yet you survived anyway. Alongside the other 800 lives your father’s actions saved. And you’ve continued to survive because of that “goddamn” _curse._ ”

Jim glowers at him, downing the remainder of his drink.

“You know that instinct to leap without looking,” Pike continues, ignoring Jim’s scowls, “that was his nature too, and in my opinion, it's something Starfleet's lost.”

“Seriously man,” Jim moans, tipping his head back, “where are you going with this?”

Pike grins smugly at him and tips back his own drink.

“You’re going to enlist in Starfleet.”

“Enli-!” Jim laughs, cutting off mid-word, “You must be insane man! The ‘Fleet is the last place I’d ever go!”

“Scared someone else is gonna work out your little secret kid?”

“Are you kidding me!? Literally all it would take is one small accident and some douchebag Admiral would secret me away to become a maniac’s plaything all over again and I’m neve-“

Jim shuts his mouth so fast his teeth clack. Pike grimaces, more than capable of knowing what Jim was basically admitting to.

“Avoiding that is exactly why you’re going to enlist son.”

Jim laughs in his face again.

* * *

Pike drags Jim out the back of the bar again.

And then pulls a knife out of the top of his boot and cuts his own throat with it.

* * *

“Riverside Shipyard. The shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow oh-eight hundred.” Pike wheezes, rubbing blood off his now-healed neck with trembling fingers. Jim watches him silently, nausea rolling unpleasantly in his gut.

“If you're half the man your father was Jim, Starfleet could use you.” Pike continues breathlessly, dabbing unimpressed at the deep red stain colouring the top of his undershirt and jacket. “You could be an officer in four years. You could have your own ship in eight. The Federation is important; it's a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada, and thanks to the _gift_ your father gave you, you could be a big part of that.”

Jim chokes out a garbled noncommittal noise. Pike pulls himself to his feet, clinging to one of the walls of the grimy back alley.

“Your father was Captain of a starship for twelve minutes,” he tells Jim as he starts to stagger away. “He saved eight hundred lives, including your mother's. And yours.” He pauses, looking back over his shoulder to stare at Jim intently. “I dare you to do better.”

Jim is left standing alone, breathing hard with uncertainty clouding his thoughts; he’s never felt more unsure of himself in his life.

* * *

Eventually, he picks his leather jacket up from off the floor beside his feet and takes his first step in the same direction Pike just left.

* * *

“Four years?” He tells the Captain with a cocksure grin, “I’ll do it in three.”

* * *

“Don't pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull, and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. A solar flare might pop up and cook us in our seats. And wait 'til your sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

Jim smirks at the slightly crazed man, and spontaneously decides that they ought to become friends; Jim feels like he needs more crazy in his life, despite owning more than his fair share already.

“Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space.” He tells the man, leaning towards him slightly.

“Yeah well, I got nowhere else to go. The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I've got left is my bones.” 

“Jim Kirk.” he offers when the man hands him his hip flask.

“McCoy, Leonard McCoy.”

* * *

* * *

They’ve been stumbling through the Academy together for six months when Bones threatens to kill Jim for the first time. Bones had just been introduced to someone new, and rather than give his name as Leonard, he had unthinkingly told the young lady he was called Bones McCoy.

“I swear to God,” he growls, looming menacingly over where Jim is sprawled lackadaisically on his dorm bunk, “if you don’t drop the ridiculous nickname right now _permanently,_ I will hypo your ass into the next life and ensure you stay there for all eternity.”

Jim dares him to try and then laughs and laughs and laughs.

Bones looks at him like he’s gone crazy, but Jim doesn’t explain what’s so funny.

* * *

They’re on a second year survival training expedition in South Africa when the inevitable happens.

“Goddammit Jim! Breathe dammit! Breathe! Hell blazing Christ, I refuse to ever go anywhere ever again without a full frickin’ medical pack or an emergency Comm, training rules be damned!”

Jim clutches at his closed-off throat and curses who ever thought it was a good idea to put peanuts in _all of the ration bars and not put an allergy warning on the wrapper._

* * *

“So what, the two of you can never die!? That ain’t right, it ain’t natural!”

As soon they disembark the shuttle following the completion of the training exercise, Bones barges out of the hanger in a blur of rage and disappears for two days. After failing to find the doctor by himself, Jim eventually goes to Pike’s office in the recruitment building and begs for help. The Captain sighs at him in exasperation, but does pull some strings, and two hours later, Bones shuffles into the office with a scowl fierce enough to burn holes in the floorboards. 

“Of course we can die Cadet,” Pike tells him sternly, standing with his arms crossed behind his desk, “we just don’t stay dead for very long.”

Bones kicks the base of Pike’s filing cabinet and then turns to him with a pointed finger “Oh don’t you argue schematics with me _Captain._ I’m a doctor, I know what death looks and feels like intimately.”

“Yeah well, so do we.” Jim mutters dryly from his place leaning on the wall. Bones turns his glare upon him and Jim smirks.

“This is insane,” Bones growls. “You’re both insane! What the hell happens if someone catches you gasping back to life huh? Why the hell are you both in gorram Starfleet, where the chances of that exact thing happening are infinitely higher than with any other profession in the galaxy!? Have you any idea what they could do to you if you get caught!?”

“Admiral Archer affords us protection.” Pike tells him shortly, “There are fail safes for such eventualities in place.”

“Oh, oh great,” Bones mock exclaims, sarcasm evident in every line of his body, “Admiral Archer set up some fail safes, you’re totally secure now. Next you’ll be telling me that Archer is like you too. Him and that blasted beagle of his.”

Jim and Pike both raise their eyebrows.

“You’re actually kidding me,” Bones utters in disbelief several seconds later. “I _knew_ there was an unnatural reason that cranky old bastard has made it to 143 in such good shape. No man passed his 100th year should be able to run the ‘Fleet obstacle course that quickly.”

* * *

“Just please tell me you’re joking about the dog,” Bones asks as Pike herds him and Jim out of the door later that day.

“An immortal beagle,” Jim laughs, “don’t be ridiculous Bones.”

“You got no right to be telling anyone what is and ain’t ridiculous Jim Kirk. ‘Specially not where matters of life and death are concerned.”

* * *

“What about old age though? Can you die of old age?”

“Seriously Bones, I have no clue. Archer’s still up and kicking, but all three of us are still aging. Albeit slower than normal; or so it would seem from Archer example. But….”

“But what Jim?”

“But we just don’t know.”

“This is all so frikin’ unnatural.”

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed!”

“Shut up you Dunsel.”

* * *

* * *

“If you want me to sign this Kirk, you have to convince me your reasons are worth it.”

“Admiral Sir, the purpose of the test is clearly to teach Cadets to hold strong in the face of unavoidable death. Its purpose is to teach fear of death, and to accept that fear and remain calm and in control despite this.”

“You are not incorrect Cadet.”

“I personally do not agree that this test actually teaches that, due in large part to it being nothing more than a _simulation._ Every Cadet who takes it knows that’s it fake going in, and due to that and its reputation of being “unbeatable”, they’ve already accepted their failure before they’ve even started. Ergo, it doesn’t _actually_ teach acceptance of death at all; it teaches Cadets to accept failure as though it’s inevitable, to not look for an alternate solution. To give up and given in”

“You’re not the first person to hold that opinion Kirk, but that’s not a reason why I should sign off on your third attempt.”

“No sir, it is not. But my personal situation and its relationship to the test’s purpose _is._ The test aims to teach you death is unavoidable. It wants you to believe that death is a no-win scenario. You and I, Admiral, and Captain Pike too, are all too aware that that’s not the case. We beat out death on a regular basis. If I can beat death, then I can beat a mere _simulation_ of death. I just need the opportunity to prove it.”

Admiral Archer stares at Jim levelly, his face unreadable.

Then, slowly, he picks up his stylus and scrawls his signature across the bottom of the request form.

* * *

“What the hell did you do kid,” Pike hisses at him furiously. Jim lets the Captain drag him by the shoulder into a nearby empty seminar room.

“I did what we always do Captain, and I laughed in the face of death.”

“When I told you I agreed with your reasons for disapproving of the test, that was not permission to go ahead and break it goddammit! You’re an utter fool, and your arrogance is nigh on unmatched! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

Jim blanches in the face of Pike’s unrestrained anger. Then he lets his own anger bubble up to the surface and hardens his own face into a scowl.

_“I don’t believe in no-win scenarios,_ ” Jim snarls back enraged. “And neither do you _damn you!_ The whole point of the Kobayashi Maru is let yourself and your crew die. Well guess what? _We don’t die!_ And I sure as hell won’t let anyone else die in my stead! So tell me what the hell else was I supposed to do huh? _What the hell else was I supposed to do?”_

Jim sees the precise moment that Pike’s anger starts to falter and feels his own fury begin to bleed away too. The silence stretches, Jim’s last shouted words echoing between them. 

“Oh helldammit,” Pike eventually sighs, “You’re right, I’m being unforgivably hypocritical. But you are not off the hook. You still broke the simulation just to prove your point, and there are a lot of people who are very unhappy with you for that.”

“And I’ll repeat to them exactly what I’ve been saying from the start; the test is pointless to begin with.”

* * *

* * *

“You do know this hearing that’s been called is because of your dumb ass right?”

“Obviously Bones.”

“Oh good. So you’re already aware that you’re about to be metaphorically knocked on your ass. Don’t need me to explain it to you in little tiny baby words.”

“Bones! Have a little faith in me!”

“Oh I got faith alright. I got faith that you’ll piss off everyone and that I’ll be the one carrying your goddamn corpse out of sight again when they come down on you like a tonne of bricks for it. You’re a bone-head stubborn bastard, and it’ll be the end of you. Again.”

“I have no idea why I let you be my best-friend; you always say such nice things about me.”

“I’m your best friend because I’m an idiot and I’m dumb enough to hide your body when you get go and get yourself killed. I still haven’t forgiven you for that brawl the other week by the way.”

“Yeah, but you still love me! Even when I die!”

“Actually I think you’ll find that I fuckin’ hate you kid.”

Jim grins at him all the way to the assembly hall

* * *

“Then, not only did you violate the rules, you also failed to understand the principal lesson.” The Commander tells Jim, face still entirely expressionless.

For a second, Jim almost lets his frustration bubble over and nearly grates out a sarcastic “please, enlighten me.” Instead though, he takes a deep shuddering breathe and sets his shoulders.

“The purpose of the test is to face death.” He tells the Vulcan simply, not bothering to hide his distaste. Spock cocks his head very slightly to the left. Jim supposes that’s the Vulcan equivalent to total shock.

“If you had already divined the purpose, then I fail to see why you persist that your actions were not morally reprehensible. In fact, it would seem to me that your enlightenment concerning the aims of the simulation only makes your contempt of the rules an even greater offence. You understood what you were supposed to achieve, and yet you chose to actively work against it.”

“You know what Commander? The fact that you think that tells me that _you_ failed to understand _my_ principal lesson. Your view of the simulation is one that blindly accepts the idea of no-win scenarios. And as most of you in this hall know, I don’t believe in them. And I certainly don’t believe that death is one.”

“Cadet Kirk, I do not understand why you do not fully realise the meaning of ‘no-win’. You of all people should know, a Captain cannot cheat death.”

Jim has to pause again, and take a deep breathe to stop himself from bursting out in hysterical laughter. It doesn’t help that he can see both Pike and Bones smirk and grimace respectively from opposite sides of the hall.

“I of all people,” he repeats dully instead.

“Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action, did he not?”

“And yet here I am Commander. Living proof that death isn’t a no-win situation.”

Jim glances towards Pike again, but before he can read the Captain’s expression, an Aide strides up to the Admiralty desk and everyone’s attention is immediately diverted elsewhere.

* * *

“Bones where are we going?” he hisses at his friend as he’s dragged across the shuttle hanger.

“You’ll see.”

* * *

“What are you doing Bones?”

“I'm doing you a favour. I couldn't just leave you there looking all pathetic. Take a seat.”

“Bones, this is one of those ration bars that’s full of peanuts! If I eat this I’ll probably die! Again!”

“Yes, and it’s a terrible shame that I’ve already forwarded my personal medical case containing all of your Epi-pens up to the Enterprise’s Medbay. I guess I’ll just have to take you to my med case instead won’t I?”

“Seriously!? I’ll asphyxiate before we get halfway there!”

“Well it’s this or I give you a Melvaran mud flea vaccine kid. And then I’d have to try and explain why I gave you one.”

“Oh because me dying on the shuttle is going to be so considerably less concerning!”

“I’ll just tell everyone you fell asleep, they won’t even notice! Now shut up and eat that peanut bar!”

* * *

Jim gasps awake with the usual jolt of full body pain and disorientation. 

“Lightning Storm!”

“Uh Jim, you’re ali- I mean you’re awake. How’d you feel?”

“Bones! Lightning storm!” he repeats frantically, scrolling rapidly through options on the monitor. Eventually he gets the message to replay.

“What the hell are you on about Jim?”

Jim waves his shaking hands desperately in Bones face.

“Bones! Lightning storm! We’ve got to stop the ship!” he stammers out panicked, before rolling off the Biobed and trying to desperately scramble to his feet.

“Good god man! You can’t go running off in your condition!” Bones shouts after him as he lurches wildly towards the Medbay doors. “Dammit Jim! You have to keep your heart rate down or you’ll di- or you’ll have another episode again!”

* * *

“Uhura! Uhura!” he shouts as he staggers down the corridor, bouncing off of other people as goes.

“Kirk, what are you doing here? Oh my god, are you ok? You’re shaking and sweating and look paler than death!” Jim waves away her concerns, and grabs the nearest water pipe to keep himself upright.

“Never mind that Uhura! The Klingon attack from your transmission the other night. The ship that attacked. Was it Romulan?”

“Jim what? McCoy is he alright?”

“He will be if he stands still for five damn minutes.” Bones growls, stabbing him in the neck with a hypo.

“Ow, what hell Bones!?” Jim exclaims, slapping his hand over the pinching sensation.

“Adrenaline to help you get over the residual anaphylactic shock.” 

“You were just in anaphylactic shock?” Uhura asks with a slight look of horror.

“Forget the shock!” Jim shouts, “The ship Uhura! Was it Romulan?!”

“Romulan?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes it was.” 

Jim immediately lurches away and starts barrelling down the corridor, Bones and Uhura racing after him yelling questions.

* * *

Captain Pike takes one looks at him as he comes storming onto the bridge and pinches his brow and sighs deeply. 

“Kirk, I know _exactly_ how you got on the Enterprise,” he growls, flowing to his feet, “and I’m really not impressed. And you Doctor,” he adds, rounding on McCoy behind Jim. “I damn well know you facilitated this.” Jim forces himself not to cower; three years at the Academy have taught him well to be afraid of that tone of voice. Bones looks mildly contrite, but does little more than shrug. 

“You can yell at us later Captain,” Jim tells him bluntly, more concerned with the serious situation at hand than with respecting ranks, “but right now we have stop the ship.”

“Mr Kirk, you are not cleared to be aboard this vessel,” Spock suddenly injects, sweeping up to the small group from the left. 

“I’m aware Commander,” he snarls at the Vulcan, “but everybody on this vessel is about to die unless you listen to me. We’re warping into a trap. It’s not a rescue mission it’s an attack.”

“Your supposition is based on what facts?” Spock asks after a nearly unnoticeable pause.

Jim swivels to face Pike again, pulling Uhura into the centre of the group as he does so.

“Sir, the lightning storm. It’s the same as the one from the day of my birth. You know this, we discussed it -and the Romulan ship that emerged from it- when I asked about your dissertation remember? Uhura, tell him about the Klingon prison planet transmission.”

Uhura shoots him a startled look, but quickly smooths it into one of determination, and she’s all professionalism as she quickly and concisely relays the necessary details. Spock supports hers and Jim’s conclusions, Pike orders her to take over control of the Communications panel, and Jim suddenly finds himself braced against the side of the Captain’s chair as they drop out of warp into a nightmare.

* * *

The view-screen blinks off as Nero cuts the Comm line. 

“He’ll kill you sir, you know that.” Jim blurts out immediately.

“Your survival is unlikely,” Spock adds.

“I think I’ll manage.” Pike returns dryly.

“With all due respect sir,” Bones adds, “going and getting yourself killed by that maniac is a terrible plan, and you damn well know why.”

“The doctor is correct, we gain nothing by diplomacy and I believe you should rethink your strategy.” Spock agrees again. 

“I understand both your reasons, but I have my own for choosing to ignore them. Now, I need officers who have been trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat.”

“I have training sir?” the helmsman volunteers.

“Then come with me,” Pike replies. And then, “McCoy get back to Doctor Puri and Medbay, those torpedo hits will have patients pouring in. And is Kirk fit for active duty?” 

A pause. 

“Good,” he continues without actually waiting for Bones’ reply, much to the doctor’s obvious displeasure, “then Kirk, you’re with me too. Chekov, you have the Conn.”

* * *

“Kirk I’m promoting you to first officer. Please try not to die, I don’t want to have to explain that.”

“What!?”

“I’m serious Kirk, no dying.”

“Captain, please, I apologize. The complexities of Human pranks escape me. Nor do I understand the human tendency to utilise what I presume is morbid humour when faced with near-certain death.”

“It’s just an in-joke between the Cadet and I Spock. And the promotions are not a prank. Kirk is first officer, and I’m not the Captain, you are. Now let’s go.”

“Sir wait! After we disable the drill, what happens to you? Leaving you a hostage is not an option.”

“Well I guess you’ll just have to come get me. And I mean it when I say no dying.”

“I heard you the first time sir. But I’m holding you to the same promise.”

“We’ll see. And Spock? Careful with the ship, she’s brand new.”

* * *

Jim manages not to die during or immediately after the HALO jump onto the drill platform. Only just, but he manages it. 

And he manages to not get Sulu killed either. Just.

* * *

As soon he escapes sickbay and Bones’ hypo-happy hands, Jim immediately heads back to the bridge, Bones trailing behind him with yet more damned hypos.

And then, after a lot of speculation about time travel and alternate realities, Jim fails spectacularly at keeping his damn mouth shut again, and gets himself frikin’ Vulcan nerve pinched and marooned.

* * *

He also doesn’t die on Delta Vega, and he’s never been more glad to avoid doing so.

He shudders to think how awful resurrecting from being eaten alive would have been.

* * *

There’s a second Spock.

And apparently, there’s a second Jim Kirk out somewhere in another Universe. 

The part that Jim really finds disturbing though, is that according to the memories that he gleans through Spock’s meld, the other Jim Kirk didn’t have his condition.

And it’s possible that Captain Pike and Admiral Archer didn’t either.

Jim really doesn’t know what to make of that.

* * *

For a few seconds, he thinks he’s pushed it too far. 

Spock has his hands around his throat and he’s squeezing and throttling.

And Jim’s been strangled to death enough times now to know that he’s mere seconds away from breaking his promise to Pike.

And then Spock is releasing him and staggering away backwards.

And then suddenly Jim is Captain.

* * *

The cargo bay of the Romulan Ship is not empty.

Nor is it actually a cargo bay. 

Despite this, Jim’s good luck streak must really be going strong today. Because despite all the phaser and disrupter fire streaking towards and around him, he still hasn’t died.

* * *

Jim’s been on his own for two whole minutes -Spock having departed in the small future spacecraft bearing the black hole device- when he thinks his lucky streak might have come to an end.

He runs into Nero and nearly gets himself pummelled to death. And when he avoids that fate thanks only to Spock’s timely destruction of the drill, the other Romulan who arrived with Nero simply steps up and takes over the task.

* * *

“Your species is even weaker than expected.”

“You’d be-” Jim tries to gasp out.

“You can’t even speak.”

“You’d-” Jim tries again.

“What?” the Romulan hisses, pulling Jim closer to his body.

“You’d be surprised,” Jim laughs strangled. “And I got your gun.”

* * *

“Kirk what are you doing here?” Pike gasps out, looking even rougher than Jim did after smuggling himself aboard the Enterprise with Bones.

“Just following your orders sir.” he smirks, pulling at the buckles on the table’s restraints.

“‘Come get me’ wasn’t actually an order you know.”

“Don’t you dare tell Spock that,” he mutters dryly, “And how many times have you died?”

Pike suddenly lurches upright, grabbing Jim’s phaser and firing over his shoulder. Jim looks behind himself and then back at Pike wide eyed.

“I only died the once,” Pike coughs, collapsing back against Jim’s side “and it no longer counts now that I just saved you from doing so too.”

“I don’t think it works like that sir.” Jim claims incredulously. Then, flipping his Comm open, “Enterprise go!”

“Tell that to Archer,” Pike chuckles wetly as they vanish in a swirl of transporter energy.

* * *

Jim, overly familiar with the horrors of death, offers the crew of the Narada one chance to accept assistance. 

When Nero vehemently rejects the offer, Jim gladly orders the bridge to fire everything they’ve got.

And then Scotty’s genius facilitates their escape and the Narada is no more.

* * *

* * *

“McCoy tells me I’ve been out for nearly ten days Kirk. And that we’re currently missing our warp core, but I’ll come back to that later. First, why the hell was I unconscious for a week and a half?”

“Yeah… apparently there were some ‘complications’ due to the slug’s venom bonding with your haemoglobin.”

“’Complications’ as in, I died? Again?”

“Little bit dead sir, yeah.”

“Then I assume the coma was to hide my miraculous recovery and make it looks less instantaneous.”

“Well he couldn’t have you shooting awake completely healed mere minutes after a total cardiac arrest could he.”

“Fine. But ten whole days? Really?

“Look on the bright side sir. At least dying fixed the bits of brain stem the slug chewed off? You could be paralysed right now and instead you just overslept a bit.”

“Go back to the bridge Commander. Before I issue you with an official reprimand for insubordination pertaining to unwarranted sarcasm.”

“Errrm. It’s Captain actually sir. I’m currently acting Captain.”

“…What!? What the hell happened to Spock?”

* * *

“And then what’d he say?” 

Jim is with Bones in the small storage cupboard attached to the Medbay; the tiny room has been temporarily repurposed to serve as the CMO’s office, the original one having been lost in the Narada’s initial attack. 

“Eh, he basically yelled at me a lot for nearly compromising myself and my secret in front of the entire bridge crew. I mean, he grudgingly agreed that Spock was totally 619’d and that I was right to demand he step down, but he was not impressed with my chosen method of doing so.”

“He actually _agreed_ with you about the Captaincy!?” Bones exclaims incredulously. “Then again I’ve got him drugged to the eyeballs right now; he can be forgiven for his total lapse in judgement.”

“Hey! A little support from you would be nice!”

Bones snorts, and knocks back the last of the whiskey in his tumbler.

“You don’t need my support kid, not when you’ve apparently got Pike wrapped around your little finger. Your ego doesn’t need inflating by me too; any more air in it and it might burst like a pin taken to a balloon.”

Jim snorts himself.

“You and your damn metaphors.” He chuckles. Bones scowls at him for it though, so he hastily changes the topic. “What’s with keeping Pike as high a kite anyway? You know he’s perfectly fine now.”

“Jim, physically healed or not, the poor man was tortured; he’s got a boat load of psychological issues he ain’t even owning to holding in his cargo, let alone finding a port he’s willing to dock at to offload. Most of what I’m pumping him full of are anxiety meds of one kind or another.”

Jim grimaces and pours them both another two fingers. 

“Plus,” Bones continues, dragging his glass back towards himself, “I have to hide his supernatural recovery somehow. The nurses would get mighty suspicious if he looked right as rain so soon after the slug removal surgery and his epic organ failure the day after.”

* * *

“Captain, Lieutenant Uhura has just informed me that Starfleet Command has been in contact with the Enterprise. The USS Yorktown and the USS Endeavour will rendezvous with us in sixty-point-two-four minutes, and provide us with a warp tow for the remainder of the distance back to Earth.”

“Oh thank god,” Jim breathes in relief. “It would have taken us another five days on impulse only. And Bones is definitely less than five days away from losing his shit with Captain Pike; he keeps trying to escape Medbay and Bones isn’t happy with him for it.”

“Then it would seem that Command’s communication is indeed timely.”

“You bet is Spock,” Jim smirks, “Bones is _lethal_ when he’s pissed off.”

* * *

* * *

“This assembly calls Captain James Tiberius Kirk. Your inspirational valour and supreme dedication to your comrades is in keeping with the highest traditions of service, and to reflect utmost credit to yourself, your crew, and the Federation, it is my honour to award you with this commendation. By Starfleet Order two eight four five five, you are hereby directed to report to Admiral Pike, USS Enterprise, for duty as his relief.”

Jim smiles slightly as he steps over to Pike, the newly made Admiral seated in a hoverchair for show.

“I relieve you sir.”

“I am relieved.” Pike replies levelly, but Jim can tell he’s restraining from rolling his eyes. Jim’s smile widens into a grin.

“Thank you sir.” He replies, not even attempting to keep the cheeky tone out of his voice.

“Congratulations, Captain. Your father would be proud.” Pike snipes back, smirking himself now. Jim narrows his eyes at him, before turning to grin at the applauding crowd.

* * *

* * *

The Enterprise is repaired and ready to relaunch just over five months after it was first towed back to space dock, battered and bleeding.

Pike corners him as he and Bones leave their now-empty student apartment for the very last time.

“Kirk, I believe you’re shipping out today?” he asks, despite the fact Jim knows that he definitely already has that information; he was invited to the shipping out ceremony months ago after all.

“Yes Admiral, we are sir,” he answers anyway.

“Don’t look so worried son. I just needed to let you know something before you left is all.”

“And what would that be?” Jim asks curious.

“It’s pretty simple Kirk. If you even _think_ about breaking my ship again, I will end you. Got it?” Pike tells him sternly, sticking his finger into Jim’s chest with his eyes narrowed. 

“Loud and clear Admiral,” Jim grins.

“I mean it James Tiberius Kirk. If you get a single fucking scratch on my hull, I will hunt you down and see if you can survive a beheading. And I’ll make sure it’s at least a seven on your stupid pain scale.”

“You know Bones will never let you do that Admiral. He’s far too protective of me.”

“Oh you wonna bet kid?” Bones smirks wryly, “If you get any holes blown in that ship while I’m still on board, I will gladly aid the Admiral in his endeavour by holding you down and exposing your neck.”

Jim gulps and scurries away down the corridor; if Pike and Bones start ganging up on him, then there’s a very real possibility he’ll cease continuing to _survive!_

**Author's Note:**

> Update: Now with sequel!


End file.
